Over The Rainbow
by scarlett2112
Summary: US Army Intel officer, Elena Gilbert is sent to Berlin in early 1945. With Capt. Salvatore's help, she recruits his brother, Damon, a former Italian resistance member who's been forced to work for the Russians. For reluctant allies, Damon & Elena, it's a race against time as they try to secure Hitler's weapons scientists before their enemies do.
1. Chapter 1

_**I LOVE history. 'Dig' is based on one of the missing Faberge Imperial Eggs. 'Pieces of Eight' is a Delena story built around the recovery of the 'Nuestra Senora de Atocha'. 'St. Helens' was built around the 1980 volcanic eruption. I love writing things like this. When 'Flames' is complete, I will be posting another Delena period piece, 'Phoenix Rising', set in the 1800's, is also built around a real life event.**_

 _ **This story takes place at the end of April, early May 1945. The objective of the mission is based on fact but needed a little tweaking to throw our favorite characters into the mix.**_

 _ **'Over the Rainbow'**_ _ **Part 1 "I've Got My Eyes On You".**_

* * *

Having been notified to get his backside over to his CO's office, Stefan Salvatore hurries down the hallway at the Pearl Harbor Naval base. After spending the morning wracking his brain wondering what he may or may not have done to be awarded such a summons, he's at a loss. As soon as he reaches the office, he enters it and takes his hat off when the secretary smiles at him.

"Captain Salvatore?"

"Yes, I was told to be here at two," Stefan says, his hands clammy and his belly alight with butterflies.

"Won't you sit down? I'll tell the Admiral that you're here."

"Thank you." And with a nod, he takes a seat, his foot tapping against the floor in a nervous cadence. Minutes pass like hours as he waits to speak to the man. Finally hearing a buzz he looks up, standing at attention when the woman tells him that he may go inside now. With a nod, he steps around the desk and enters the man's office.

"Have a seat Capt. Salvatore," Admiral Nimitz says, gesturing at the chair with his arm. Looking around the room, he sees pictures of the man receiving all manner of commendation as well as pictures of people that he assumes are of his family. When he looks over his shoulder to see the man watching him, he apologizes and sits down, his posture stiff as he watches him take a seat too.

"I'm sure you're wondering just why I asked you here today?"

"Yes, sir, the thought did cross my mind," Stefan adds, trying to keep a serious face.

"This is strictly confidential, Captain. Not a word of this is to be mentioned outside of this office. Are we clear?"

"Crystal, Sir."

Nodding, the man walks over to his door, telling his secretary to bring another person in. Once he closes the door, he sits down at his desk and lights up a cigarette. Although he offers one to Stefan, he refuses, having never picked up the habit. Hearing the doorknob twist, Stefan looks over his shoulder, standing up when he sees a woman entering the Admiral's office. If he wasn't married, Stefan wouldn't waste anytime asking her out on a date.

"Major Gilbert, this is Stefan Salvatore."

"Captain," Elena greets, offering her hand. "I work for Army Intelligence."

"Major," he says, returning the salutation before sitting back down when his CO gestures for him to do so.

"The reason you're here Captain is because of your brother," Elena informs him, leaning back against the Admirals desk and directly in front of him.

"My brother?" Stefan asks, looking at the man incredulously. Seconds pass before Stefan lurches upright, fear causing his heart to stammer against his chest. Shaking off his stupor, he asks, "Is he okay?"

"Yes, as far as we know. We know that he's in Germany and works for the axis powers. But after observing him for a very long time, we've come to the conclusion that he's no Nazi. We want to recruit him to spy for us."

"What?"

"This is top secret, Captain. You are not to breathe a word of it to anyone. Do you understand?"

"Yes, he already told me that," Stefan affirms, his eyes drifting to his commanding officer.

"Our government is trying to locate Hitler's rocket scientists. We want your brother to help us."

"I haven't seen my brother since before the war started when I came back here with my mother. I mean, I wouldn't even know where to find him."

"He's in Berlin. As I said, we've had our eye on him for a long time. With Hitler dead and the country now in occupied hands, it is less dangerous than it would have been a year ago. That said, this isn't a walk in the park either. The Soviets also want what we want."

"And what would that be and what is my role in all of this?"

"We want you to get in touch with him and set up a meeting. I will be his contact. I speak fluent German and if anyone would happen to see us together, they'll think he's just spending his free time with a pretty fraulein."

"Are you sure him receiving a wire from an American isn't going to set off any alarms? I won't do anything that could potentially put his life in danger."

"No, you're going to Berlin with me. After you introduce us, you will be sent back here to your normal duties."

"As long as you have the ability to keep him safe. We've never been particularly close but I don't want him to die either."

"I won't lie to you, Capt. Salvatore. He's going to have to do some digging inside the former Nazi headquarters to find out where Professor Wilhelm Saltzman and Dr. Von Braun, among many others, are being held. We need to find these men before the Soviets do. Many of them would be extremely valuable to our own weapons programs."

"What if the information you're seeking was destroyed when the allied forces bombed Berlin?"

"That's entirely possible but we're hoping he can do some snooping and find out anything and everything he can to put our guys on the right path."

"Do I have a choice?"

"No," Elena answers succinctly, her voice firm and unwavering.

Resigned to his fate, Stefan relaxes his posture and asks, "When do we leave?"

* * *

Finishing up his duties, Damon salutes his boss and then excuses himself to leave for the day. As soon as he steps outside, he pulls a cigarette out of his pocket and lights it up. With the Soviets in control of the city, Damon is just trying to stay under the radar long enough to save up enough money to get to America to join his brother. As he starts walking down the block and even though he hated the Nazi's, he still hates to see the city in ruins. At one time, Berlin was a beautiful yet modern city. When his best friend and his Jewish family were rounded up in the middle of the night, Damon grew to hate them even more, that hatred intensifying exponentially when he found out that they died in one of Hitler's concentration camps.

As soon as he rounds the corner amongst a huge pile of rubble, someone pulls him into an alley. Although he digs for his weapon, he can't quite get it since he's in choke hold. Once they're far enough into the alley and shrouded in shadow, the man relaxes his hold on him. Spinning around with fists drawn, Damon is about to pummel the man till he sees who it is. Too stunned to speak he just stares, his mouth opening and closing till he's finally able to utter, "Stef?"

"Hello brother," Stefan says, pulling him into a hug.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Damon asks incredulously, still not quite believing who's right in front of his eyes.

"Would you believe me if I told you that I'm on a mission for the U.S. Government?"

"Huh?"

"It's true. They know all about you, Damon. They want your help to track down the scientists that were working on Hitler's missile and weapons programs."

"Me? You can't be serious?"

"Deadly serious, brother. They want you to be at this pub tonight at nine pm. Someone will be waiting for you."

"It all sounds so cloak and dagger. I don't know anything, Stefan."

"They seem to think that you can help given your position in Nazi headquarters before Berlin fell."

"The only reason I came here in the first place was to help the Italian resistance. When the American's came and Mussolini was dispatched, I stayed on to help the French and the Americans. I'm kind of a man without a country now," Damon explains, his mind wondering back to the day he entered Berlin. With his cover firmly in place, he arrived in Berlin in 1943, immediately starting to attend Nazi party rallies in hopes of protecting his cover. When one of the higher ranking officers was almost assassinated, as much as Damon didn't want to do it, he pushed the guy out of the way to earn his trust. It was his belief that the man would be more valuable if Damon could wrangle a job inside the Reich's Chancellery. The man was very grateful and while Damon played it cool, initially refusing the job. However he soon learned that one does not simply refuse a member of the Nazi Hierarchy. With access to classified materials, Damon was able to get information to the resistance as to German troop movements and locations.

Once the Soviets entered Berlin, he was rounded up and imprisoned for over a month till one day he was just released, taken blindfolded to a secluded mountainous area. He'd seen Nazi propaganda films of Hitler and his top men at the Eagle's Nest near Berchtesgaden. Because of that the area looked familiar to him but to this day he's uncertain if that's where he was held captive or not. He knows it was a woman who freed him and installed him back at the Chancellery to help Soviets go through mountains and mountains of Nazi files. As much as he didn't want to do it, he thought he'd be able to help the allies if he stayed in that position, at least until the opportune moment arose, one in which he could escape to the west.

After his mother died and his father remarried and had Stefan, they packed up to go to America. With the winds of war blowing and the Nazi's gathering strength, Giuseppe began to explore the possibility of leaving. It was after the Anschluss, the annexation of Austria and the Rome-Berlin axis of 1939 that he packed what little they had and traveled across the border into Switzerland then boarded a boat to get to the United States where Stefan's mother was raised of Italian parents. Choosing instead to fight the coming evil, Damon stayed with his mother's family till they were killed when a German plane crashed into their little home. Snapped out of his reverie when he hears Stefan's voice again, he faces his brother head on, his mind trying to comprehend what's being asked of him.

"I was told that you've been on their radar for some time and now they want your help. Will you be at this pub tonight?"

"Are you able to contact them?" Damon asks, looking up and down the alley to make sure no one is approaching.

"Yes, why?"

"You tell them that if they want my help, my price is a ticket to America and cash to get me by till I can find a job there."

"I'll tell them." Glancing at his watch, Stefan looks around too, before giving Damon his full attention again. "Listen, Damon. I have to go, I'm meeting your contact and then I'm being ordered to get on a plane to go back to the States. Take care, brother," he adds, pulling Damon in for a hug before taking off down the alley. Damon tries chasing after him but loses him when Stefan dives into a car and disappears in cloud of dust.

* * *

Feeling his gut churn uncomfortably, Damon is more than a little anxious as he skirts along the edges of buildings to get to the pub Stefan mentioned. The Soviets are patrolling the city to keep the peace but it's still dangerous as people are starving and looting is a big problem. With garrisons all over the city, Damon does his best to try to avoid attracting any undo attention. As unobtrusively as possible, he makes his way down the side streets, staying in the dark, his hand clutching his pistol the entire way. By the time he arrives at the place, it's just after twenty one hundred hours. With his heart slamming in his throat, nearly taking his breath away, he walks into the place. Trying to keep a low profile, he strolls up to the bar to order the darkest most stout beer that they carry. When the bartender slides it to him, Damon pays him then takes a long pull, closing his eyes as he savors the taste.

Just as he orders a refill, out of his peripheral vision, he sees a woman slide into a booth. Subtly looking over his shoulder, his eyes widen when she nods to him. Sensing that she's his contact, Damon orders two more beers and then walks over, sliding into the opposite side of her booth.

"Damon Salvatore?" she asks, taking the beer that he offers her.

"Who wants to know?" he asks, taking another swallow from his stein.

"Mr. Salvatore, I'm Elena Gilbert, US Army Intelligence. You and I are going to be working together, Mr. Salvatore so you might as well cooperate."

"I'm just supposed to stroll into what's left of the Reich's Chancellery that's now teaming with Russian soldiers and just walk out with what you need?"

"Something like that. I speak fluent German and Russian. From what I know, you're multi lingual too. So yes, Mr. Salvatore, you and I are going to do just that."

"Are you being serious right now? Do you think they're just going to hand over what we need? Hell, they're Russians, they get shot if they smile," Damon adds, taking another swallow of his drink as Elena watches, mesmerized by the way his Adam's apple bobs as he drinks. Shaking herself out of it, she picks up her own stein to take a long pull, not wincing at all by the stoutness of the nearly black beer.

"This is serious business, Damon. You would do well not to make light of it."

"What exactly is it that you want from me? Stefan said something about the Third Reich's rocket scientists."

"That's exactly what it is that we want. Now are you playing or are you folding?" Elena asks, focusing her gaze firmly on him.

"Did Stefan tell you my terms?"

"He did," Elena acknowledges and continues, "You want to come to the States. Is that correct?"

"It is," he affirms, swallowing back the last of his beer. Turning away, he signals the bar maid for refills then turns back to Elena, giving her his full attention again.

"Since you already ordered a refill, as soon as we're done, you and I are going to exit this place as if we're lovers and once we're certain we're not being watched, we'll go to your place," Elena tells him firmly, leaving him no room to protest.

Seeing this as his only chance to get to America, Damon finally nods his consent, thanking the barmaid with a tip when she refills their steins. After they finish, they get up to leave. It's a chilly evening so Damon wraps an arm around her shoulders and leads her out of the bar. Taking off down the block, he pulls her into a heady kiss when he sees a Russian platoon coming towards them, guns drawn.

* * *

After assuring the Russian soldiers that they were just on their way back to Damon's apartment, they continue walking, finally ducking into Damon's place. The building looks run down on the outside, a perfect cover because the inside is quite comfortable. Although it's not large by any means, it's enough for Damon. As soon as they safely set foot in his apartment, Damon demands some answers.

"As someone working in Nazi Germany, you know what kind of weapons Hitler's scientists were developing. We want to stop them before the Soviets and possibly the Japanese get their hands on them. As you well know, Mr. Salvatore, the war is still raging in the Pacific."

"Even if I knew where they were, why me?"

"Your brother told us that you wanted to get to the States to reunite with your father and that you wanted cash. I'm here to offer you that chance."

"My father left me here. Why would I want to reconnect with him?"

"Did he leave you here or did you choose to stay here? I know all about you, Mr. Salvatore including how your grandparents were killed by a Luftwaffe plane that crashed into their home."

"How do you know all of this?"

"I'm military intelligence, Damon. I know more about you than you know about you," Elena adds cryptically. "I have to get back to headquarters. I'll meet you at the pub again tomorrow night. Will you be there?"

"No, you know where I live now, you can come here. I don't want to raise suspicion by being seen again in the same place with the same woman by the same people. Are we clear?"

"Crystal," Elena affirms. After slipping her hat on, she gives him a nod and disappears out of his door. Rushing outside, he gets there just in time to see her shadow disappear into an alley.

"What is it about these guys and alleys?" Damon thinks, shaking his head. Walking back inside, he closes and locks his door. Although he's tired, he's too pumped with adrenaline after everything he's learned tonight so he pulls a book out and plops down on his bed, hoping that reading will help him drift off to sleep.

* * *

"Come in Major Gilbert, did your contact show up at the rendezvous point?"

"Yes, sir, he did," Elena says, saluting her superior officer.

"And is he going to help us?" General McNarney asks, gesturing for Elena to have a seat.

"Both he and his brother confirmed that he wants to get to the States and be set up in his own business."

"Lofty demands would you say?"

"With all due respect, Sir, I don't think they're lofty at all. He's going to be risking his life to help us. The least our country can do is honor his request. But with all that said, I agree that we have no idea if he's trustworthy. So we need to play our cards right as it were."

"Well, Major Gilbert, whether we honor his request or not is dependent on if he delivers the information that we need to find these men," he adds, pointing to the scattered array of pictures that are askew on his desktop. "If he fails, he's not going anywhere. This is between you and I, do I make myself perfectly clear?"

"Yes, Sir. But if he does lead us to Prof Wilhelm Saltzman and Dr. Von Braun? Are you still going to be so cavalier about Mr. Salvatore's life?"

Although he appreciates her spunk, he's a little taken aback by it. "You would do well to show a little respect, Major. I don't doubt your loyalty in the least, you've more than proven your abilities. But that said, what happens to Mr. Salvatore is entirely dependent on Mr. Salvatore himself. We'll talk again after you give my men some actionable intelligence. You are dismissed," he says, pulling a cigar out of his drawer, lighting it up as he watches her leave his office. Pausing at the door, Elena salutes and then walks out chastened and a little frustrated but determined to get her job done and get back to the US. Having only met Damon once she knows that she needs to spend more time with him. If he's going to earn her trust, he's going to have to prove himself. He's had alliances to both the Nazi's and the Italians, both members of the Axis powers. And in addition to that, he's now working for the Soviets in the former Nazi chief headquarters. The man is going to have to show her with deed that he's worthy of her allegiance. Shaking her head, she leaves the building, her mind focusing only on her mission.

* * *

Between running into his brother again and the army intelligence woman, Damon tosses and turns the whole night. When the sun creeps in and shines directly over his eyes, he throws his forearm over his face and lays there a few moments wondering what the hell he's going to do and how the hell he's going to do it. Where does he even begin to look for information on the men the Americans are searching for? As he lays there, his mind buzzing a mile a minute, it strikes him that maybe he could find some information in the Department of Archives and Antiquities. Deciding that he may as well face the music as it were, he throws his legs over the side of the bed. After rubbing his eyes with his palms, he drags himself out of bed and into the bathroom.

As soon as he's dressed, he locks up his little place and heads to work. Once he arrives, he has to go through the security checkpoints, showing them his badge and being patted down to make sure he has no weapons on him. It takes everything in him not to roll his eyes because he wouldn't be so stupid as to bring a gun with him. He'd be dead from a gun shot before he could even utter a syllable in his defense.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he walks up the stairway and towards his office. As soon as he gets inside, he sets his case down and plops into his desk to try to come up with a plan. Dropping his elbows onto his desktop and threading his fingers through his newly shorn locks, he tries to come up with something, anything plausible to explain his presence in the archives should he be seen. As a plan forms in his mind, he gets up to pour himself a cup of coffee before going about his work for the day, cataloging all of the paperwork that wasn't destroyed in the hours before the Soviets over ran the city.

Feeling a little jittery from caffeine overload, Damon walks out of the office to use the bathroom. After emptying his bladder, he zips up his pants and then surreptitiously walks out and up the stairs towards the archival office. Finding the door locked, he breathes a little sigh of relief, hoping that it means no one is in there. Pulling a paperclip out of his pocket, he quickly picks the lock and slips inside. Rather than turning the lights on, he lights a match as soon as he's away from the door's window. Pulling open a file drawer, he starts thumbing through them one by one. As tedious as it is, he finds one labeled, "Peenemunde." Slipping it into his shirt, he figures he's been in here long enough for one day so as quietly as possible, he sneaks out of the office. As he walks down the hall, he's accosted by a couple of guards. When they ask him why he's in this area of the building, he tells them that he came out of the bathroom and thought he saw a shadow so he went to investigate. And after finding nothing, he is on his way back to his own office.

When they tell him not to be found in that area again, he nods and hurries back to his part of the building. As soon as he reaches his office, he lets out the breath he was holding. He spends the rest of the day taking care of his required duties. When the day is over, he walks out as nonchalantly as possible, cracking a couple of jokes with one of his co-workers as soon as they're free of the building. After saying goodbye to Hans Dietrich, he walks home as fast as his legs will carry him, only then pulling the file out of his shirt. With a shaky hand, he opens it up, realizing that lightening must have struck because it appears to be exactly what the Americans want. Instinctively knowing that he needs to find a safe place for it, he wracks his brain trying to come up with the perfect hiding place. Surely it would be found under his pillow or under the mattress or in a cupboard or in one of his drawers of clothes. Starting to pace back and forth and in dire need of a drink, he walks into his closet. Pulling the rug up, he finds the loose floorboard. Pulling the nail out with his fingers, he stuffs the file inside and then replaces the nail and the carpet.

After splashing some water on his face, he grabs his keys and leaves his apartment, making sure the door is secure before he walks away. Finding himself in front of the same bar, he looks over his shoulders before entering. As soon as he's inside, he walks as unobtrusively as he can to the bar and orders a stiff good stiff drink. Raising an eyebrow at him, the bartender chuckles and pulls a bottle out from under the counter, pouring a tumbler full for Damon.

"Thanks," he acknowledges the man before taking a sip. Whatever it is, it's strong and Damon feels his head spin. When he starts to teeter, he feels someone shove a rag over his mouth and nose. Although he tries to fight it, he descends into darkness before he can make any kind of an effort.

* * *

Walking up on a straw mattress and feeling his head pounding like a kettle drum inside of his head, he groans aloud. Every muscle in his body aches as he tries to sit up. Just as he does, he sees shadow amidst the sunlight flittering into the whatever room he's being kept in. Looking up, he gasps when he sees a woman. With her hair up in a bun and her tight dress and heels, she's beautiful but...

"You're awake, Mr. Salvatore."

"Who are you? Where am I and why did you kidnap me?"

"Well, it's like this Damon, may I call you Damon?" she asks, looking at her fingernails as if she hadn't a care in the world.

"I don't care what you call me. I demand you release me, I haven't done anything wrong."

"Now, now Damon. That's not quite true is it?"

"Lady, I have no idea what you're talking about?" he asks, grimacing as he presses his fingertips against his throbbing temples.

"I think you do," she adds, teasing him a little more.

"I demand that you let me go. I've done nothing wrong."

"Don't worry your pretty little head," she assures him, smiling wickedly as she brushes the hair off of his forehead. "Why don't you think about it for a little while. I'll be back with some water and aspirin when you're ready to talk." And with that, the woman sashays out of the cell, pulling it closed with a clank before disappearing from his view.

* * *

When he wakes up a second time, he opens his eyes slowly. This time it's dark and dank smelling. Through the barred windows, he can see that it's nighttime. If there's one thing to be thankful for, it's the fact that she took him on a Friday night and he's not due back to work till Monday. Dragging himself off the hard mattress, he stumbles over to the bars and starts to clang at with the metal cup that was laying on the floor. When no one comes, he's about to give up when she comes strutting down the hall again, this time with a bottle of something in her hands.

"You can quit that any time, Damon. It's rather annoying," she mentions, quirking her brows at him.

"I'm thirsty, my head is still pounding and I want out of here."

Taking a key, she unlocks the door. Not one to let an opportunity pass, Damon launches himself at her, knocking her to the floor. He covers her mouth with his hand before she can scream. But unbeknownst to him, she's an expert at defending herself and soon the tables are turned and she's sitting astride him with a shit eating grin on her face.

"Mr. Salvatore, do we really need to play these games?"

"L.E.T. ME GO," he snaps, struggling to get out from under her.

"Tell me what you know about the American. The one you spent time with in the bar the other night."

His mouth drops open when he realizes that he'd been followed. Expelling a deep breath, he casts his gaze directly on her. "She's an American?" he asks, feigning incredulity.

Raising a brow in disbelief, the woman stares at him.

"Her command of the German language and her accent were impeccable. I never would've guessed that she's an American. And as far as the reason I was with her. I'm a guy, I wanted to have a good time. But when I offered to take her up on it, she backed out."

"Oh please, Mr. Salvatore, you can do better than that."

Staring at her for several minutes while he tries to come up with something, anything and praying to God himself that no one saw him with his brother, he sighs heavily. Shaking his head for a moment and with his nerves firing in all directions, he only hopes his voice doesn't betray his anxiety. When he looks at her again, he blurts, "You want the truth, I'll tell you the truth. They're looking for my brother. He disappeared from his military base in the States. Apparently he works with highly classified material and they're afraid he might sell it to the highest bidder. And if you've been watching me, you'll know that I haven't seen my brother in years."

"And that's all?"

"That's all. Can I go now?"

She stares at him for several moments before she stands up and offers him her hand. Once he's on his feet, she tells him to follow her. As soon as she hands him back his house key and wallet, she orders him blindfolded.

"Before we let you go, Mr. Salvatore. We know what the Americans want. If you find anything, we will most certainly double whatever it is that they're offering you."

"Well, I don't like being drugged and kidnapped so if that's what you're offering, I'll pass," he spits back indignantly.

Smiling like the cat who ate the canary, she runs her long fingernails along his jaw line. Leaning in so her lush lips are against his ear, she whispers, "Oh sweetheart, you're playing in the big leagues now. You would do well to remember that. And if I were you, I would think long and hard about which side you're going to help. I'm fairly certain that you have an idea as to where to start looking," she says with a wink. "And one more thing before you leave.. know this, Mr. Salvatore, the streets have eyes."

"Who are you?"

"Katerina Petrova... and I play for keeps," she adds before stepping back and nodding at her men. The next thing he knows, he's being thrown into the back of a car with this hands tied. When the car stops, he tossed out onto the sidewalk and before he can get the blindfold off, he hears the car speeding away, the tires squealing loudly. Finally freeing his eyes and his wrists, he stands up, realizing that he's in front of the bar. Because the bartender was obviously complicit in his kidnapping, Damon doesn't go inside, instead he breaks out into a run, not stopping till he reaches the relative safety of his apartment.

* * *

Stepping inside, he pushes the door closed with his back when he leans into it and slides down to the floor. Sitting down, he takes a long deep breath and wonders how many people are likely watching his place and watching him while at work. When he looks up, he gets the shock of his life when he sees Elena Gilbert sitting cross legged on his couch, staring at him.

"Where have you been hiding for the last twenty four hours?"

"Who wants to know?" he snaps, irritated that he can't have a moment of peace and quiet without more cloak and dagger interfering with his life.

"I do, the United States whom I represent does."

"A man has needs, Miss Gilbert... need I explain more?" he adds, waggling his brows at her suggestively.

"I think not but really, Damon? There are more important things to consider right now? We need to get our hands on those men before the Russians do," she snaps, glaring at him with nearly lethal intensity.

"Why should I believe you? Maybe they're willing to pay more?"

"This is life and death business, Damon. It's nothing to be cavalier about. One side doesn't play fair shall we say.. they'll just as soon shoot you as look at you. Now if you know something or have found something, you need to tell me."

"I haven't found anything yet," Damon snaps, finally dropping his eyes. "I'm tired, I'm hungry, my head hurts and I want to go to bed. Now unless you want to join me, I'd like you to leave or at least get out of my way."

"I'm not leaving you till you go to work Monday morning."

"For the love of," he snaps, grimacing when his head starts pounding even harder.

"Until I know that you're trustworthy, I'm your fucking shadow," she says, quirking her brows teasingly.

Unable to say anything and too tired and in pain to give a damn, he starts to strip right in front of her. With only his underwear on, he disappears into the bathroom. Rolling her eyes, Elena picks up his clothing. Seeing his pack of cigarettes, she lights one for herself, blowing out smoke rings in her frustration with him. She's very attracted to the man but he's a loose cannon. Not willing to let him betray the mission, she's not letting him out of her sight till they find what they're looking for. Although she has no death wish, she would give her life for her country in a heartbeat. Dropping down onto his bed, she takes another drag from her cigarette before pressing the butt into the frame of the bed to put it out. Tired, she closes her eyes, the last thing she feels is his arm draping over her before she drifts into slumber.

* * *

Waking up a couple of hours later, Elena finds that Damon's hand is resting on her breast. Although she can't deny the electricity she feels, she shifts ever so slightly, enough to make his hand slip from it. Seeing that it's still dark outside, she closes her eyes again. When she feels a chill, she snuggles back against him, letting the warmth of his body give her some relief. Feeling his breath at the base her neck stirs things inside of her but because she doesn't know if she can trust him yet, she tries to think of anything and everything to tame her now over sensitized skin. The only thing she can do is to put a little distance between them, immediately feeling the loss when she does. Shaking it off, she pulls up the covers and closes her eyes again, falling back to sleep shortly thereafter. The next time she wakes up his side of the bed is cold. Lurching upright, she looks around, breathing a little easier when she sees him.

"Coffee is kind of hard to come by. Do you want a cup?" Damon asks, taking a deep sip from his cup.

"Thanks, I'd like that."

"Were you serious about coming to work with me tomorrow? I mean, I really don't want to die."

"Yes, I'm absolutely serious and no, I don't have a death wish either but this is bigger than the two of us. The free people of the world are depending on us."

"You're really going to place the outcome of the whole world on my shoulders?"

"I don't mean it that way, I'm just trying to stress to you how very, very important this is."

"So if you're sticking to me, what should we do today?" Damon asks, teasing her with a wink.

"I really don't think I should be seen with you in public. If you want to go out, I can't stop you but the streets have eyes," she warns, uttering the same words that the Katerina Petrova cautioned before releasing him. Staring at her for several moments, he finally puts his cup down and takes the seat beside her.

"Look, I know you don't trust me, you have no reason to but I'm not the bad guy here and as I told you, I don't want to be on the receiving end of a bullet between the eyes. As long as we have to stay in, I expect you to tell me exactly what your plans are to get me out of Germany if I find what you're looking for. And frankly, I think I deserve a one way ticket to the States whether I find them or not. I'm the one risking my life here."

"When I deem you trustworthy, we'll discuss all of it. I've been doing this for four long years now, Damon. I've never let anyone die on me and I'm not about to start with you."

"Women," Damon mutters in frustration. Raking his hand through his hair, he glares at her for a few minutes. Knowing that he still has the file hidden in his closet. At least he thinks he does unless the Russians were here while he was being held captive. If she falls asleep again or spends some time in the bathroom, he'll have to make sure his bargaining chip is still secure. "I deserve to know what I'm facing here," he repeats, his fuse lit and burning out of control.

"Don't you worry about that. It's top secret," she repeats cryptically.

"If my neck is going to be on the line, I have a right. to. know," he snaps, his heart pounding against his chest in anger.

"Damon, I can't tell you that. It's top secret," she adds, stressing the words top and secret. And look, we won't be walking in the direction of the chancellery together. I will follow you from a safe distance but know this, you won't be out of my sight until you walk into that building."

"Easier said," he retorts, lighting up another cigarette.

"If something goes wrong and I get captured, your name will not leave my lips. And believe me, I'm aware of the danger, Damon," she adds, pulling the cigarette from his hand to take a long puff. "Now do mind if I wash up?"

"No, go ahead."

With a nod, she hands him back his cigarette then disappears into the bathroom. Without wasting a moment, he rushes into his closet, pulls up the rug and floor board and breathes a sigh of relief when he sees that the file is still there. Now he just has to decide if he's going to give it to her or not.

* * *

After spending the rest of the weekend together, playing cards and talking about things, Elena gets a little more insight into Damon. He explained how much he hates working for the Nazi's, how their atrocities will be remembered for a millennia but the reason he stayed was to help bring them down and get information to the Italian resistance. He was ready to leave when Berlin but wasn't able to vacate the city in time. The Soviets demanded that everyone working at the time of the Berlin siege stay to help them go through reams and reams and reams of papers relating to the Third Reich.

When Monday morning arrives, they're both up early. After Damon dresses, Elena excuses herself to go into the bathroom. As soon as she finishes, she walks out to find him pacing back and forth. Taking a deep breath, she approaches him. When she places her hand on his forearm, he stops to look at her. "Don't worry, Damon. You'll be at least a block ahead of me. Why don't you go ahead and go? I'll give you a five minute head start okay?"

"What choice do I have?" he asks, feeling his heart begin to pound in his throat.

"Damon? I'm not going to endanger you life needlessly. You need to relax so you don't do something stupid."

"Fine, I'm going to leave now. Help yourself to a cup of coffee before you take off and make sure you lock up."

Nodding, she takes another breath to fortify herself. Before she can talk herself out of it, she closes the distance between them, takes his face in her hands and joins their mouths in a heady kiss. Stunned Damon is stiff for a millisecond before kissing her back. When they break apart, her breasts are heaving. "I'm sorry, I've been wanting to do that since I met you."

"Don't apologize," he adds. His gaze wanders from her to the door and back to her. Latching onto her lips once more, he kisses her as if it's the last time because it may very well be. After letting go, he plants one on her forehead and then leaves without looking back. Hurrying to the window, she watches till he disappears when he turns the corner. After taking a few swallows of coffee, Elena grabs her purse. Pausing to look around a little bit, she sees a handkerchief laying on the floor. Since it's clean, she presses it to her nose to breathe in his scent. Not want to part with him, she stuffs it in her bag and then opens the door to step outside. She double checks to make sure her door is locked before heading down the street in the same direction he went. As soon as she reaches the main one, she looks around finally catching a glimpse of him as he rounds another corner. Picking up her pace so she doesn't loose him, she reaches an alley. Thinking it'll save her some time, she hurries through. Just as she's about to reach the sidewalk, she feels pain and in the next second, her vision blackens as she collapses onto the gravel.

* * *

 _To be continued..._

 _Huge thanks to you, Eva. I love you my dear friend, more than I can express._

 _Big thanks to all of you as well. And a special thank you to all the anonymous reviewers that I can't thank personally. I do try to respond but it seems between the bedlam at work lately and bedlam at home, I just never seem to find the time. Please know that I appreciate each and every one of you._

 _Chapter title: "I've Got My Eyes on You" by Fred Astaire._

 _I have decided to add an epilogue to 'Run for the Roses'. It needs to be written yet. When I get it done, I will post it_

 _"Through the Fire and Flames" will be the next story to update._

 _Please remember to review._

 _Be safe and have a wonderful day. Thank you again, you're all the very best._


	2. Danger Zone

Worried about being followed and remembering that the Russian woman told him that the streets have eyes, Damon doesn't look behind him even once to see if she or anyone else for that matter is following him. When he reaches his destination, he goes through the usual security procedures and takes the stairs up to his office. Reaching his desk, he drops down into his chair to take a few deep breaths.

"Busy weekend, Damon?" His co-worker asks, smiling at him. He's always suspected that Rose was sweet on him but he has no interest in dating her. It's not that she isn't attractive, Damon just doesn't like her personality all that well. Knowing what she's alluding too, he smirks and waggles his brows teasingly to deflect attention from his rather agitated state.

"The boss sent me over, he wants you to go upstairs to pull these files from the archives if you can find them," she adds, handing him a piece of paper. Seeing the names, he breathes an inward sigh of relief when the name of the one he took isn't on it.

"Why me? There are people assigned to work there, why doesn't have just get one of them? Won't they know exactly where to look?"

"I think they already have. He just wants you to run up and bring them back if Hermann found them that is."

"Fine," Damon agrees. After taking the paper from her hand, he puts his bag in his desk drawer then leaves to do what he's told. When the coast is clear, he sneaks into his boss's office. As quickly as he can he pulls open the desk drawers and starts going through files. Unable to find anything and with the clock ticking, Damon carefully puts everything back and then exits the office without being seen. At least he hopes he hasn't been seen. After picking up and dropping off the files, he goes back to his section. With his heart still stammering, he picks up his lunch and starts to nibble on his sandwich. With his mind a hundred miles away, he jumps when he feels a hand on his shoulder.

"Why so jumpy?" Rose asks, pulling up a chair and sitting down next to him with her own lunch in hand.

"No reason. Ever have one of those days where you know that the sky is falling?"

"I have them quite often since they entered the city." Leaning in close, she whispers, "I'm not sorry the Nazi's fell and I'm glad that _he's_ dead but I love this city and hate to see it occupied by _them_ too."

"By _them_ you mean the Russians?" he whispers, his eyes focused solely on hers.

"I do. I just want to do my job and then go back to the Germany before the war, before the killings you know?"

"Ssshh, we don't know who might be listening," Damon cautions, nonchalantly looking around, relieved to see that they're the only two in the room. After taking another bite of his sandwich and a swallow of water, he rakes his hand through his hair. How on earth is he ever going to find out what they want IF the file he took doesn't hold the answers?

Having no other opportunity to snoop by the time his shift is over, Damon grabs his things and leaves for the day. When he steps into his place, he expects to find Major Gilbert but she's nowhere to be found. Thinking that she must be meeting with her superiors or something, Damon doesn't give it much thought. Rather, he makes himself some supper. By late evening and there's still no Elena, Damon is a little curious but doesn't let it stop him from getting a good night's sleep for once.

Waking up the next morning, Damon groans when the sun hits him in the eyes. Rolling over, he buries his face for a few more minutes before forcing himself to get out of bed. Once he gets dressed, he grabs his things. Putting his hand on the doorknob, he happens to notice Elena's scarf. Shrugging it off, he leaves to go to work. As was yesterday, he's kept so busy that he barely has time to take a piss, let alone snoop for the information that Elena wants. At the end of the day, he decides that until he sees her again, he's not going to put himself in anymore unnecessary danger.

By the time he gets home the sun is just beginning to sink in the horizon. Stepping into his house, he expects her to be there but when she isn't there again, he gets the sinking feeling that something is very wrong. The first person that comes to mind is the Russian woman. She did caution him after all. Dropping his bag on the bed, he starts pacing back and forth in his apartment. What if Elena talks, what if they take him prisoner again, what if, what if, what if spins on repeat in his head. It dawns on him that if the answers where there in the archives, Miss Petrova could've gotten them herself so why did they want him? Hurrying to his closet, he pulls up the floor board and lifts out the file. He'll never memorize all of this but he can't be caught with it on his person either. With his mind a whir, he tries to think of something, anything that might help. Opening up the file, he starts to thumb through it, his eyes nearly popping out of his head when he sees a picture of one of the scientists. Although it's true that he hasn't seen Ric in many years, it's still a stunning revelation. Never once does he remember his friend talk about studying Physics and other science classes. In fact, he remembers that the Ric he knew hated such things. This is just another riddle to solve in a long list of riddles, Damon realizes.

Although he knew of the name, he never knew that the American's were after him. Dropping his forehead into the palm of his hand, it finally dawns on him what he has to do. Putting the file in order again, he carefully puts it away, replacing the floor board with such precision that even to his eyes, it doesn't look like it was ever disrupted. Walking into the other room, he grabs his jacket. Not wanting to go out through his front door for fear that the streets so indeed have eyes, Damon sneaks out the bathroom window. Looking around and seeing no one, he runs down the block. Finding a bicycle, he jumps on and pedals as fast as he can. He only hopes that _she'll_ listen to him and not slam the door in his face.

When he's about a mile or so from his place, he realizes how it'll look if he doesn't show up for work tomorrow. It'll be like painting a target on his back. Reluctantly, he brakes, stopping the bike. As much as he hates the idea, he turns around to go back home for now but when the weekend comes, he'll have to try again. It's the only thing he knows to do to get some answers.

* * *

Once he gets home, he takes a long pull from his bottle of bourbon that he keeps for special occasions. After putting the lid back on, he puts it back in its hiding place under the sink. Walking into the other room, he strips out of his clothes and into his pajamas. Crawling under the covers, he rolls onto his side. Soon he's tossing and turning, his mind a blitz of things that he shouldn't have to be worrying about. If only he hadn't seen Stefan and that Gilbert woman. But if he's to be honest with himself, he did very much enjoy sharing a bed with her last weekend. His skin prickles just at the thought of touching her soft skin again. Turning onto his back, he stares at the ceiling, his mind drifting to his childhood friend, whom he now knows to be Wilhelm Saltzman. Known to Damon only as Ric, the two of them were good buddies till the war started. Although German by birth, Ric parents lived in Trento just across the street from where Damon grew up.

Spending all of their free time together, the two were very close. His sister, Trudi, although mentally slow would try to keep up with them too but often she would spend her time with her dolls. Despite her learning impairment, Damon always suspected she knew and understood a lot more than her parents and his parents for that matter gave her credit for. He'll have to take the train to Magdeburg which is the last place he knows that Ric and Trudi lived. Whether they're still there, he's clueless but he can't not try. He knows that Ric would never leave her behind. He was always very close to his younger sister, beating up anyone who picked on her.

When his eyes finally start to get droopy, he closes them and rolls over again, hoping that this time, sleep will come quickly.

* * *

With her head throbbing, Elena grimaces as she struggles to open her eyes. Knowing without doubt that she'd been drugged given the cotton mouth she has as well as the weight of her eyelids, she groans and rolls over, right off of the hard straw mattress and onto the cold hard cement. When she tries again to force her eyelids open, her pupils are hit dead center by a stream of blinding sunlight. Flipping on her belly, she tries to get her knees underneath her so she can get up, gasping when she feels two hands latch onto her upper arms. Lifting her to a standing position, she finally shakes off her stupor and opens them. Another gasp leaves her mouth when she realizes who the man is.

"Professor Saltzman? Wilhelm Saltzman?" Elena asks, perusing the man, noticing his unkempt appearance and the yellowish green bruising under his eyes and on his cheek bone and at the curve of his jaw.

"You know who I am?" he asks incredulously, staring into her eyes.

"I know who you are. I work for US Army intelligence," she mouths knowing that every word they speak could easily be intercepted.

"I don't understand?"

Using her lips, she mouths that she can't go into detail here, not when they're being held captive, not when the walls have both ears and eyes. Swallowing thickly, Ric sits down, his mind a morass of confusion and worry for his sister. Having nothing better to do right now herself, Elena takes a seat beside him. Taking his hand, Elena gives it a squeeze to try to reassure him somehow, yet she knows herself that it's highly unlikely that she'll ever see the light of day again.

* * *

Damon has never been so relieved in his life to have the work week over. After packing a small overnight bag, he reaches for the pistol he keeps under his mattress. Staring at the cold hard steel for a moment, he contemplates whether or not he should take it with. Finally after much deliberation, he puts it at the bottom of his bag before leaving his place, hoping to get away before that woman or one of her cronies catches up with him. Hurrying to the train depot, he buys a ticket for Magdeburg. Although he's nervous and jumpy, he tries to project an air of nonchalance so as not to draw attention to himself. Taking a seat by the window, he crouches down, push his bag under his seat for the duration of the trip. The trip is approximately one hundred and fifty two kilometers. His belly is alight with butterflies the whole of the trip. Clutching his clammy palms in his lap, Damon can't help but look over his shoulder from time to time. And even if someone is tailing him, he doesn't notice anyone paying attention to him.

As soon as the train stops later that afternoon, Damon disembarks and looks around. Taking a seat in the depot, he drops his face in his hands, trying to remember where Ric and Trudi live. And as he sits there, he finally raises his eyes. As he looks around, he comes across of the map of the city. Picking up his bag, he walks over there and pinpoints exactly where he remembers them being. Judging by the map's scale, he figures the house must be three or four miles from where he's standing. Even though he knows it'll be dark and likely dangerous to be out, he has to try to get to her.

Stepping outside, he starts down the block at an even pace. Once he's out of sight and alone on the sidewalk, he breaks into a run, pausing every now and then to take a breath. By nightfall, he finally reaches the home that he remembers. But the million dollar question is... does Trudi still live there?

After staring at the place for several minutes, he drops his eyes and shakes his head before looking at the house once more. When he sees a figure walk past the window, he figures there's now time like the present. Steeling his spine, he takes a deep breath, forcing one step in front of the other till he's standing in front of the door. He stares for a few seconds again before raising his hand to rap on the door. Once he does, he steps back when he hears footsteps. When the door opens up, Damon breathes a heavy sigh of relief, "Trudi, it's you."

"Damon Salvatore?" she asks incredulously.

"Yes, Trudi, it's me. I need your help."

"My help?"

"Can I come in?"

"Why should I let you in?" she snaps, not knowing whether she can trust him or not.

"You know me, Trudi. We grew up together. I'm not here to cause you any harm. It's about Ric."

"What about him? Do you know where he is?"

"No, but I'm hoping you can help me to find him. I promise you, Trudi, that I'm not the bad guy here."

"Why should I believe you? You worked for the Nazi's. He told me that you did."

"If you'll just let me inside, I'll explain everything. Please?"

Staring at him for several minutes, she finally steps aside so he can step over the threshold and into her house. After she pushes the door closed, she tells him to set his bag down and then directs him into the living room. Sitting down, he scrubs his hand down his face to try to shake off some of the fatigue he's feeling. Unable to take her eyes from him, she continues to stare, hoping to see something of the person she used to know. Should she believe him or not, should she trust him or not? With the world upside down, she doesn't know which way to turn. But then a part of her remembers how Damon used to stick up for her when other kids teased her when they were all much younger than they are now. Seeing that he's tired and noticing the hour, she sighs.

"It's late, Damon. Come, you can sleep in his room," she says, motioning with her hand for him to follow her. With a nod, he gets up, walks over to the foyer to grab his bag then follows her down the hall and into a bedroom.

"Thank you, Trudi. I promise that I'll explain everything tomorrow. Please believe me that I mean you no harm."

"The Damon I used to know would never hurt me but are you still him?" she asks pointedly before disappearing into the room across the hall. Pushing the door closed, Damon doesn't bother to disrobe. After taking his shoes off, he lays down on the bed. Although his mind is busy, his body is too exhausted to care and in moments, he drifts off to sleep, _her_ face at the forefront of his dreams.

* * *

When he wakes up the next morning, he stretches his limbs then gets out of bed. Quietly he walks out of the room because he remembers Trudi being rather jumpy. Not wanting to scare her, he says her name softly. Finding her in the kitchen sitting at the table with a cup of coffee, he says good morning.

"You can get yourself some coffee if you want," she tells him, staring at her hands that are encircling her own cup.

"Thank you, Trudi. Can I join you?"

"Of course, you have a story to tell me."

Nodding, Damon pours himself a cup and then sits down opposite of her. "I promise you that I'm not a Nazi, Trudi. Yes, I worked at the Chancellery but it was only to get information back to the resistance. I tried to leave when Berlin fell but the Soviets wouldn't let anyone who worked there leave. I'm risking my own life to help the Americans. They're looking for Ric and Dr. Von Braun. Do you know anything?"

"How do I know that what you're saying is the truth? I'm not the smartest person, I know I'm slow but I don't want to die."

"Trudi, I promise you on everything that is holy that I'm telling you the truth," Damon pleads, his heart beating like a bass drum against his Adam's apple.

"I don't know where Ric is but Dr. Von Braun was here many weeks ago. He mentioned that by the time the War broke out in 1939, he was running a sizable operation at a dedicated rocket facility at Peenemunde. Sitting on the northern German island of Usedom, Peenemunde afforded von Braun's team the space to build, test, and launch their rockets harmlessly into the Baltic Sea."

Hearing the word "Peenemunde" piques Damon attention, knowing that the file he absconded with has the same name. "Go on," he says, taking a sip of his coffee.

Taking a breath, her eyes not leaving his, Trudi continues, "He told me that the rockets were built in underground factories near Nordhausen, most famously at Mittelwerk. Also that construction was done mainly by prisoners from a nearby concentration camp. He said many, many prisoners lived, worked, and died in the damp underground tunnels at Mittelwerk. Some succumbed to disease and malnutrition. Some were worked to death. Others were hanged publicly in group executions. The death rate rose so high that crematoriums became a necessity. Dr. Von Braun with Ric and some of the others accompanying them, visited Mittelwerk at least once. They were given a tour of the facility by SS guards in a couple of years ago when prisoners were still excavating tunnels. During his work in developing the rocket, he explained that he never gave up on his dream of landing men on the Moon. One night in early March of last year, he drank too much at a party and spoke too freely in what he thought was just casual conversation. He told fellow party goers that he foresaw the war ending badly for Germany and added that all he'd ever wanted to do with his rockets was launch them into space. It was a treasonous admission, which was a crime punishable by death. Von Braun was arrested weeks later, and while he was never incarcerated, it was his and Ric's first indication that they wouldn't be safe in their home country when the war ended."

"How do you remember all of this, Trudi? It's like you're reading it from a text book," Damon asks, looking at her a little skeptically.

"He's right behind you, Damon," Trudi says, using her head to motion over Damon's shoulder. Turning around, Damon jumps out of his chair, realizing now just how much more dangerous is than he ever suspected.

"Dr. von Braun?"

"Yes, I am he."

"People are looking for you and some of your colleagues," Damon informs him, still staring at the man as if he was looking at a ghost.

"Who?"

"The Soviets and the Americans," Damon adds, still in shock to be in the presence of the man himself. I need to find Ric and then there's a woman from Army intelligence. She's missing too."

"Ric is being held at the Spandau Citadel just outside of Berlin. I escaped when they raided our facility. Ric was not so fortunate. I've been hiding out here with Trudi for weeks now. I'm going to meet up with my brother, Magnus and decide what to do from there. I hope you find your friend, Mr..?"

"Damon Salvatore."

"Good luck, Mr. Salvatore," he adds before disappearing out of the room.

Still in shock, Damon drinks the rest of his coffee and then takes her hands in his. You've risked a lot here, Trudi. I can't promise you that I'll be successful in trying to find Ric, but I can promise that I'll do my very best. I need to get back to Berlin."

"I understand," she says, getting up to refill her coffee. As she drinks, Damon grabs his things and after saying goodbye to her, he bids a hasty retreat after promising that he'll be in touch.

* * *

"Come now, Miss Gilbert, wake up," Elena hears through her foggy mind. With her wrists shackled behind her back and her ankles to the chair legs, she struggles to open her eyes. Having been slapped around for the last few hours, she doesn't know up from down right now. Finally summoning the strength to raise her head, she sees the brown haired woman staring, her arms crossed and a sinister smirk prominently displayed on her face.

"What do you want?" Elena asks, scowling at her.

"Oh sweetheart, you know very well what I want. Where are they?"

"Who are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Miss Gilbert. We're both big girls here, now I expect some cooperation or I'll have Richard here make you a little more agreeable shall we say?" she taunts. Pulling up a chair, she sees down in front of Elena. Crossing her legs, she swings the one leg back and forth, her high heels getting closer and closer to Elena's skin.

"My name is Elena Gilbert, I am a Major in the United States Army and my serial number is.."

"Spare me," the woman interrupts, rolling her eyes. Seeing that she's getting nowhere with her prisoner, she gets up, sliding the chair legs along the cement floor, the scraping noise irritating Elena's already pounding headache. "Richard, our guest doesn't seem to be in a very cooperative mood. Why don't you give her a little nudge," she says, meeting Elena's stare before she walks out of the windowless room, pulling the door closed with a clinking sound.

Smiling at her as if he were the devil himself, Richard backhands Elena across the face, snapping her neck so hard, she sees stars. As he continues to brutalize her, Elena blissfully loses consciousness. Picking her up, the man takes her back to the cell, tossing her in a heap on the hard floor. Moments later, Ric is shoved back in the cell too. Having been beaten too, one of his eyes is swollen shut and his lips is split and bleeding. But worst of all, they broke the fingers on one of his hands, hands that he needs to do his job. Brushing his pain aside for now, he rushes to the woman. Grimacing and with extreme care, he lifts her onto the mattress. Taking a little water, he dabs her fat lip, swollen jaw and black eye too. Feeling the cool moisture on her face, Elena opens one of her eyes, smiling through her pain when she sees that he's still alive.

* * *

After boarding the train, Damon doesn't know what the hell he's going to do. He promised Trudi that he'd try to help her brother but what can he really do? It's not like he has an army to storm the Bastille as it were. Laying his head against the window, he closes his eyes but everything inside of his mind is fast and furious and he can't seem to make sense of any of it. Should he try to find the American forces himself? But really, how does he even begin to know where to find them? If he was to ask about their location, he'd be painting a target on his back. He's many things but he's not suicidal. Raking his hand through his hair in frustration, he wishes he could just turn off his brain for a few hours.

As soon as the train screeches to a halt, Damon sits up in his seat, letting the other passengers exit the train as the aisle is full. As soon as he disembarks, he does his best to keep up the appearance of someone without any cares. Although it will take him a good amount of time to walk home, he keeps up the leisurely pace so as not to draw any attention to himself. Tired from walking for miles, Damon is relieved to finally reach his place. After unlocking the door, he goes inside, locks himself in and then collapses onto his bed. Dr. von Braun told him that Ric is being held at Spandau Citadel. Getting up, he walks over to the magazine rack, digging through it, he finds what he's looking for. It's a book on German architecture and history.

The Spandau citadel is one of the best preserved fortresses of the Renaissance. The original fortress along with the Julius tower, the oldest structure in Berlin, was built around 1200. Begun in 1560 under Elector Joachim II, the construction of the fortress was finally completed in 1594. The Spandau citadel has the form of a square and includes the Julius tower and four bastions, bearing the names of King, Queen, Crown Prince and Brandenburg. The architectural design of the brick building is based on Italian models and was once considered impregnable. Raking his hand through his hair, he knows that it'll take a miracle for him to not only get into the place unnoticed but also to find his friend. But he made a promise to Trudi and he won't back out of it whether it means he dies a young man or whether by some unexplained force of nature or God himself, he manages to succeed. Since it's late on a Saturday night, he decides to try to get a couple of hours of sleep before taking off. Knowing that the cover of darkness is his friend, he pulls his gun out of the bag. Rolling the chamber, he makes sure that it's loaded. Although he hasn't much for ammunition, he'll take what he has and hope it's sufficient.

After shoving it under his mattress, he sets his alarm clock for three am then lays down. As fatigued as he feels, he knows that he could sleep right through it. Closing his eyes, he can only hope that he'll wake up before the dawn.

* * *

Waking up with a start when arms grip her, Elena opens her eyes, squint when a bright light bores into them. Before she can utter a syllable, she's dragged out of the cell and into the medieval torture chamber. Since this castle is centuries old, there are probably many of them. Shoved into the chair with bright lights bearing down on her, she licks her cracked and parched lips.

"Have you thought about what we talked about, Miss Gilbert?" Unable to see her through the glare of the bright lights, Elena says nothing.

"As much as I enjoy turning the screws, you won't be of much use to us if you're dead."

Hearing some commands in Russian, Elena opens her eyes again, this time a couple of the lights have been turned off. Raising her chin defiantly, she stares at the evil woman who's smirking at her like that cat who ate the canary. Not willing to give the Soviet woman any information, she smiles, goading the woman.

"Oh my dear, you won't be smiling when I'm done with you," she retorts, slapping Elena hard across the face. Tasting the fresh blood from her newly split lip, she licks it with her tongue, not taking her eyes from Katerina.

"Give it your best shot, you're not going to break me," Elena taunts, running her tongue along the seam of her mouth. For the first time, Elena sees anger in the woman. Hearing more commands in Russian, her head snaps back when a closed fist lands a punch right on her jaw. Although every pain sensor in her body is screaming in agony, she refuses to give them the satisfaction of seeing her in pain. When she smiles again, she feels another fist, this time just under her ribcage.

Frustrated by her lack of success with the American woman, Katerina kicks a lamp over, the glass shattering on the centuries old stone floor. Knowing she'll get nothing out of her, she snaps, "Dasvidaniya" then leaves the room. Just as she starts to close her eyes, Elena is yanked out of her seat and thrown back into her cell, landing in a painful heap on the ground. Too weak to get up, she closes her eyes and lets the darkness consume her.

* * *

When his alarm goes off, Damon shoots upright, reaching to turn it off before any of the neighbors hear it. The last thing he needs is to arouse any kind of suspicion. Already dressed, he slips his boots on and pockets his gun and the ID the Russians have given him. Closing his eyes, he fists his hands at his sides as he takes a moment to realize what faces him. Knowing he couldn't live with himself if he didn't at least try, he walks into the kitchen and pulls a piece of bread out. Snacking on it, he would do anything for coffee but he doesn't want to take the time to brew it. Instead he swallows the stale bread down with a gulp of milk. After finishing off the bread, he takes on more long pull on the milk bottle then sets it in the sink.

Knowing that this is the first place that the Russians will go to if he's successful, he takes the file out of it's hiding place and stuffs it into the inside pocket of his jacket. Once he slips on his coat, he makes sure his house key is in his pocket before he stealthily leaves his place and takes off down the dark alley, lit only by the occasional street light. Although it's a long walk to the Spandau Citadel, he has no other choice if he doesn't want to draw attention to himself. By the time he gets within viewing distance, he has to stop to rethink his plan. It's a fortress surrounded on three sides by water. He's going to have to do some scouting to maybe find a weak spot before he even thinks about trying to get inside. With daylight looming, he knows he can look around a little bit but he'll have to wait again for nightfall before he puts whatever plan he comes up with in motion. Steeling his spine, he pretends to be a local, getting as close to it as he can. Seeing the Russian sentries on guard, he's almost certain now that this is likely where Ric is. Watching their movements intensely, Damon wonders too if some of the other scientists might also be imprisoned here. By the time he traverses the place, he turns his back and walks away to get some coffee and find a place where he can formulate a plan without grabbing attention from any of the locals. Having seen a small mitre-shaped, almost hidden door, Damon knows that's the key to entering unheard and unseen but the question is, will he be able to get the door open?

* * *

Having spent the day inside of a church, he leaves when the sun is no longer shining through the stained glass windows. As casually as he can given that his nerves are frayed and his heart is pounding inside of his chest, he walks to the Citadel. Praying for that miracle, he stealthily makes his way around the place till he reaches the gravel road. Crawling into one of the water filled ditches that flank it, he makes his way along it, staying in the shadows and away from the spotlights. When he reaches an area free from sentries, he gets out of the water and runs around the side of the castle till he finds the little corner that's he's looking for. The door is very obscure, old and likely quite thick. It takes every ounce of strength he possesses but finally manages to pull it open, stunned indeed that it was not locked or barred. With utmost caution, he steps inside, looking in every direction. Hearing footsteps, he plants himself against the wall, hoping the shadows will keep him obscured.

Once they pass, he can breathe again. Now that he's in the place, where does he even begin to look for his friend? The place is massive, likely full of hidden rooms and chambers. What the hell did he get himself into, Damon thinks to himself. It's then that he hears what sounds like a faint whimper. Knowing that he's either going to get shot himself or find his friend, he starts down long and ancient hallway in the direction that he heard the noise. Wandering around, he realizes that he's been going in circles. So far he's been able to avoid any Russian interference. Wondering if he's pushing his luck, he's about to head back towards the door when he hears the whimpering sound again. Determined to find it, he starts down the corridor a second time. When he starts to round a corner, he overhears a conversation. Although he's not fluent in Russian by any means, he knows a little bit. Hearing them say something about their prisoners being held, he holds his breath. As soon as they depart, he makes his move. Reaching the room, he gets the shock of his life when he sees not only Ric but also the American woman, Elena. Pressing his fingers over his mouth so they won't say anything, he takes a sliver of metal out of his boot, he picks the lock and motions for Ric and Elena to follow him.

Too badly beaten to walk, Elena urges them to leave her behind, knowing that her government needs the professor more than they need her. Gritting his teeth, Damon picks her up and leads them out of the cell and back down the corridor. Just as they make the first turn, Damon stops in his tracks when he sees the Russian woman standing in front of them, gun drawn and aimed right at his head.

* * *

"Ah, Mr. Salvatore, we meet again," Katerina quips, a sinister smile forming on her face. With eyes as black as a demon's she trains her pistol on them. "You're not going to get out of here, so why don't you tell me what you know? That way, when I send you to your maker, you can go with a clear conscience."

"Go to hell," Damon sneers, not willing to give her the satisfaction of seeing fear in his eyes.

Amused by his bluster, she starts to laugh uproariously but keeps her gun trained on him. With her head lulling on Damon's shoulder, Elena feigns unconsciousness. Because her right arm is obscured by Damon's body, she snakes it around to his back, pulling his pistol from where he has it tucked in the waistline of his pants. When Damon feels what she's doing, he glances down for a millisecond before turning his raging eyes to Katerina again.

Licking her lips seductively at Damon, she shakes her head. "You and I could have taken a wonderful ride, Mr. Salvatore. It's a pity that you're not going to live to see another sunrise." With that she cocks the gun but before she can pull the trigger, Elena fires, the bullet tearing through her brain, killing her instantly. Closing his eyes at the ghastly scene of blood and brain matter, Damon shivers. Knowing they need to make their escape before the guards surround them, he runs, Ric following behind after he pulls Katerina's gun from her hand.

Running through the stone passageways, they arrive quickly at the miter shaped door, escaping into the dark of the night with only the clothes on their backs. Making their way down the dark streets, they look for some kind of shelter. Finding an abandoned barn, Damon leads them inside, Elena still in his arms. Laying her gently in the hay, he looks around for some water, anything to give her something to drink and soothe her wounds a little bit. Not understanding why it hurts to see her in so much pain, Damon drops onto the hay beside her, putting her face in his lap. Gently stroking her hair, he smiles when he hears her soft snore. Although he knows she's hurt and badly in need of medical attention, she needs to tell them how they can safely get to the American forces.

"You saved me," she whispers, barely able to keep her eyes open.

"I know you hurt and you're tired, Elena. But I need to know where the American forces are. We won't be safe until we find them."

"General Patton's Third Army is in Bavaria. I was to meet up with my ride in the heart of the beast as it were, The Brandenburg Gate," she whispers just as her eyes drop shut.

"Ric, we can't go to the Brandenburg Gate. We'll be arrested immediately. We have to try to get to Bavaria."

"It's good to see you too, Damon. I haven't even had the chance to mention that. You, you and Elena go. I have to get to Trudi."

"Maybe there's a car we can steal?" Damon mumbles aloud.

"Let me carry her," Ric insists. And although Damon doesn't want to relinquish his hold on her, he gently strokes her cheek with the back of his fingers, closing his eyes at how soft her skin is. Shaken out of his reverie when he hears his name, he nods. Rick takes Elena in his arms and the three of them with utmost stealth, sneak out into the night staying in the shadows and alleyways. Even though they come upon a train station, Damon knows that it's likely a bulletin has been issued for their apprehension but he thanks his lucky stars when they find a car, it's motor running, pulled alongside the curb near the ticket booth. Unwilling to let his conscience talk him out of it, he jumps behind the wheel while Ric with Elena in his arms, dart into the back seat. And seconds later, he guns the engine and disappears in a cloud of dust and debris.

* * *

As soon as Damon is certain they're not being followed, he pulls into a dark alley to strategize for a few moments. "Look we can't go back to my place. It's the first place they'll look," he says, squeezing the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles whiten.

"Damon, how did you know where to find me?"

"Dr. von Braun told me where you were taken," he adds, not realizing what he just let slip.

"You saw him?" Elena asks, turning her head to face him.

"Yes, I saw him. We don't have time to discuss him now. We need to decide where we're going to go and right now."

Struggling to stay conscious, Elena adds, "St. Pius church, the priest he went to seminary in the States. Friend, epinephrine." As soon as the words are out of her mouth, her eyes fall closed as she drifts into unconsciousness. Not wanting to call attention to them, Damon slowly backs out of the alley and onto the street. Not daring to speed, he takes as many backroads to the church as he can. Forty five minutes later, he pulls into the parking lot. Lifting Elena into his arms again, he, followed by Ric carries her into the church. When he reaches the altar, the priest walks out of the vestibule.

"Is that Elena?" he asks, a worried look on his face.

"I need to lay her down."

"Follow me," he says, leading them down a winding stone staircase. When he opens a door, Damon takes her over to the bed and lays her down. Turning to face the priest, he adds, "Listen, I need to get rid of the car. If it's seen, they'll swarm the place."

"Go and be safe my son," the man says, making the sign of the cross in front of Damon.

Nodding Damon thanks the man before facing Ric. "Stay with her. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"No, I'm going to go after Trudi."

"I'm going to hide the car. I'll be back and then we'll formulate a plan."

As much as he wants to protest, Ric finally nods his agreement. Damon shares on last look at him before disappearing up the staircase.

* * *

By the time Damon gets back, Elena is cleaned up and raring to go after having Ric inject her with some Epinephrine. "Are you okay?" Damon asks, taking the liberty to brush a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I'm fine. Listen, I need to go out. I want you and Professor Saltzman to stay here."

"Stay here!?"

"You have to trust me, Damon. I need to get ahold of my people. I have a specific rendezvous point. If we're going to get out of here, I need to be there. Now please, do as I ask?"

"Why can't I go with you?"

"You're both safer here. You'll be shot if you're seen, Damon."

"So will you. You KILLED her," he retorts, his gaze steely.

"They don't know who killed her and I should remind you that it was your gun, Damon. So please, stay here and try not to do anything stupid," she warns, turning away from him when she finds herself drowning in the depths of his mesmerizing blue eyes. Slipping on a coat and hat, Elena pulls open the door. Pausing, she breathes in and out and before she has time to think about it, she turns around and launches herself at him, kissing him with an intensity that will see her through eternity if she doesn't make it back. When she breaks the kiss, Damon is looking at her in shock.

"Trust me, Damon."

"If you're not back in ninety minutes, I'm coming after you," he adds, pulling her in for one more blistering kiss. And then he lets her go, watching as she hurries up the stairs and out of sight, the grinding of the stone door signaling her disappearance.

* * *

With the epi wearing off, Elena barely makes it to headquarters before losing consciousness again. Immediately taken to the infirmary, she is treated by one of the physicians with IV fluids. Approximately an hour or so later, Elena starts to stir. With her body aching like a son of bitch, she still forces herself upright knowing that she has to get Damon and the professor safely into American hands. Throwing her legs over the side of the gurney, she stands up, grabbing a hold of the frame when she feels her legs start to wobble.

"Major Gilbert, you need to lay back down."

"I can't. I need to speak to General McNarney. It's of vital importance."

"Major, you're hurt and you need to rest."

"God damn it. I need to speak to him NOW. Are we clear?" she snaps, glaring at him with a look that could shatter glass.

"Sit back down before you fall down and I'll go get him." After several tense seconds pass, she finals sits back down, staring at the man as he retreats out of infirmary. On edge, minutes pass like hours as she waits for her superior to arrive. Touching her lips softly with her fingertips, she feels a tear when she realizes that she may never touch his mouth again. Now is no time for tears she tells herself, wiping her eyes and rising to attention when General McNarney closes the distance between them.

"Major, what is so important that I needed to be dragged from a meeting?"

"I know where Professor Saltzman and Damon Salvatore are. We need to bring them in."

"We already have Dr. von Braun. He and his brother surrendered themselves to our forces in Bavaria."

"But General, we made a deal with him, Damon, I mean. Does your word not mean anything, Sir?" Elena retorts, standing her ground.

"Major Gilbert, you would do well to remember who you're speaking to. Professor Saltzman is no longer our priority."

"General, you can't do this. We promised Captain Salvatore that we wouldn't endanger his brother. I gave my word. Apparently that doesn't mean anything to you but it still means something to me." Squaring her shoulders, she jumps to her feet. Although weak and tired and barely running on fumes, she puts one foot in front of the other, walking away without bothering to salute. As she's about to walk through the door, he grabs onto her arm, stopping her in her tracks.

"Major Gilbert, where are you going? You need medical attention."

"I asked him to trust me. I'm not going to go back on my word."

Without releasing her arm, he shakes his head. "Damn it, Major," he snaps. Yelling aloud, a couple his aides run towards them. "Brady, Enzo, go with Major Gilbert and bring the package back here," he commands, his voice eerily calm. Letting Elena go, he gives her a nod and heads back down the hall towards his office.

"This way," Elena says, motioning for them to follow her. Moments later, they're climbing into one of the military vehicles, speeding down the streets to get to St. Pius before sinister forces beat them to their targets. Driving down the dark streets, Elena along with the two officers arrive, her heart stopping when she sees Damon and Ric in the doorway, surrounded by about three suits brandishing weapons. When she sees one of them knock Father Andrew down, an anger as intense as she's ever known surges through her veins with each pump of her pounding heart. Brady drives past a little way and then parks the truck. Deciding on a quick plan, the three of them get out of the car, draw their weapons and hurry back to the church. With the element of surprise working in their favor, Elena yells for them to drop their weapons. Laughing at her, one of the men a blonde steps in front of her taunting her with a sinister smile.

"Don't underestimate me," she adds, raising her brows seductively. Even though she has a fat lip and bruises, under the cover of darkness, they're not as easily seen. With the odds now, three against three, a pop, pop, pop sounds. The Russian spins around only to see his men lying dead in the street at the rear of their vehicle. Hearing his gun cock, she draws her weapon, dropping him with a headshot before he can even raise his weapon.

With the adrenaline waning, Elena's knees teeter at the same time her vision blurs. His strong arms are the last thing she is conscious of before darkness consumes her.

* * *

July 20, 1969

"And that is how your daddy and I met and fell in love and a lot of how this night came to be," Elena explains to their six year old daughter Emily, thirteen year old, Mallory and their seventeen year old son Jack. Smiling at his wife, Damon stretches his arm out and over the back of the couch, laying his hand on her shoulder. Leaning in, he gives her a kiss before telling Jack to turn on the TV.

"That's amazing. I know you are adept at using a gun. I've seen that myself at the shooting range. Every time I hear this story, I'm even more intrigued. My mother was a US Army intelligence officer. How cool is that?" he mentions, high fiving his mom.

"Jack, the Nazi's were a horrible, heinous, murderous lot. I wanted to help my country win the war. And besides that, I promised your uncle Stefan that I would do everything in my power to protect your dad."

Feeling Damon squeeze her shoulder, she presses a quick kiss to his lips. About to speak, Emily interrupts pointing at the TV where they watch Neal Armstrong stepping down the ladder of the lunar module, also known as the Eagle. Turning their attention to Walter Cronkite, they listen intently as he narrates what they're watching on the TV.

"Whew, boy ... There he is, there's a foot coming down the steps. ... So there's a foot on the moon, stepping down on the moon. If he's testing that first step, he must be stepping down on the moon at this point. ... Well, look at those pictures. It's sort of shadowy, but we sort of expected that in the shadow of the lunar module. Armstrong is on the moon — Neil Armstrong, 38-year-old American, standing on the surface of the moon, on this July 20, nineteen hundred and sixty nine."

In awe of seeing first Neal Armstrong and then Buzz Aldrin walk on the moon and plant the flag, Damon feels a little sense of pride, knowing that he had a hand in bringing the scientists to the United States, not only Dr. von Braun but also Ric and his sister, Trudi. Although they don't see each other often, they keep in touch by phone call and letter.

At 10:56 p.m. EDT Armstrong is ready to plant the first human foot on another world. With more than half a billion people watching on television, he climbs down the ladder and proclaims: "That's one small step for a man, one giant leap for mankind."

When the broadcast is over for the night, Damon carries a sleeping Emily up the stairs, Elena and their other two of children following behind. After saying goodnight to Mallory and Jack, Elena steps in front of Damon. Walking into Emily's room first, she pulls back the covers. Laying her down, Damon drops a kiss to the crown of her head and covers her up. Stepping back, Elena does the same. Smiling at his wife, he takes her hand and walks with her to their bedroom. Once they change into their pajamas, they crawl under the covers, Elena snuggling into her husband's embrace like she does every night.

"I want you to make love to me," Elena whispers, taking his lips in an ardent kiss.

Finding himself already hard by the husky timbre of her voice, he gently runs his knuckles down her cheek, nearly melting himself when her eyes darken even more. Rolling her onto her back, Damon drops his mouth to hers, kissing her deeply and with purpose. When he breaks the kiss, he stares at her with such reverence that even after all their years together, her heart still stammers uncontrollably.

Feeling her shudder at his touch, he uses his mouth to graze along her jaw line before recapturing her lips. Lowering her hands to elastic waist of his pajama bottoms, she hastily frees him, using her feet to push them down and out of the way. Scooting her body closer to him, she presses herself against his long and thick length.

"I want this every time I lay eyes on you," he moans as she rocks herself against him.

"Me too. I love you, Damon."

"I love you too," he echoes, lowering his mouth to her breasts. He lavishes first one and then the other with bites and suckling noises, doing wickedly wonderful things to her insides. Unable to take anymore she cups his face and brings his mouth to hers. She nips his bottom lip, pulling it between her teeth till their kiss becomes frantic and wild. Reaching down, she starts to stroke him, feeling a sense of empowerment when he hardens and pulsates at her touch. Wanting only to feel him buried deep inside of her, she takes him in hand again. Deftly she rubs the head up and down along her heated flesh, paying special attention to her engorged clit.

"I want to be inside of you when I come."

Having had a vasectomy after their fourth child, they no longer need to worry about protection. Their oldest, twenty two year old, Jay, has already left the nest. Wanting her desperately, he pulls her mouth to his again, tilting her face to deepen the kiss. Panting she pulls away, wraps her hand around him again, and positions him right where she wants him. When their eyes meet, he slides inside, always in awe of the way it feels to be inside of her glorious body. Damon moves in and out of her furiously.

"More, Damon," she groans, participating fully in their lovemaking.

Feeling her arch her pelvis, Damon instinctively knows what she wants. Even though they've made love too many times to count in the years since they met, it still astounds him how fresh and exhilarating it always feels to join with her as one. Feeling the heat in his belly begin to expand and burn even hotter, he captures her lips in a long, slow and deep smoldering kiss. With his mind and body on the verge of complete euphoria, he drives deeper within her until he hears her cry out his name. Within a matter of seconds he feels her body tighten as she drops over the edge taking him along with her.

Collapsing onto her, his weight presses her into the mattress. Resting his forehead in the space between her breasts, Elena drops a kiss to the crown of his head. Feeling her heart beating wildly against her chest, he sighs blissfully when she threads her fingers through his sweat dampened hair. Although he'd prefer to stay like this with her forever, he reluctantly rolls off. With her skin still slick, he tugs her against his chest, pulls the covers up and wraps her safely in his arms.

Feeling him press a kiss to the back of her head, Elena, sated and blissfully happy, smiles. Soon she feels light puffs of air rhythmically brush the back of her neck. Knowing he's asleep, her eyes drift to the window. The sky is clear and the moon is shining bright and in the blink of an eye, a star shoots across the horizon. She doesn't need to make a wish because all her dreams have already come true.

The End.

* * *

With 120 of his associates, Dr. Wernher von Braun was brought to the U.S. as part of "Operation Paperclip" in order to demonstrate their achievements with V-2 rockets. He arrived in the U.S. in September 1945 under contract to the U.S. Army. During the following five years, he directed high-altitude firings of V-2 rockets at the White Sands Missile Range in New Mexico and was project director of the guided missile development unit at Fort Bliss, Texas.

In 1950, the Fort Bliss rocket group was transferred to Huntsville, Alabama, where the Army centered its rocket development activities. In Huntsville, the von Braun team worked on the ballistic rockets called Redstone, Jupiter C, Juno, and the Saturn 1B.

After the Soviets' Sputnik went into orbit in 1957 and the Navy's Vanguard rocket blew up on its pad, a version of von Braun's Redstone rocket, called Jupiter-C, put Explorer 1 into orbit in 1958, and another version carried Alan Shepard on the first U.S. sub-orbital flight in 1961.

Von Braun and his team were transferred from the Army's control to NASA's when the National Aeronautics and Space Administration was established in 1958. Von Braun became director of NASA's Marshall Space Flight Center in Huntsville, which was dedicated on July 1, 1960. The von Braun team members were given a choice whether to go to NASA or stay with the Army Ballistic Missile Agency. All elected to be transferred to MSFC on this same date. Von Braun's management style was to let everybody on the team know that they were important to its success and that any work they did was a reflection on the team. The result was that every team member did his best.

When President Kennedy called for a Moon landing within the decade, von Braun was asked to lead the effort to design and build the rocket. The Saturn V, developed by MSFC, won the race with the Soviet Union to put the first men on the Moon in 1969. After the Moon landings, at the insistence of the NASA Administrator, von Braun, in 1970, went to NASA Headquarters in Washington, D.C. to serve as Deputy Associate Administrator and to promote space activities. But public interest and support had declined, and von Braun resigned in May 1972 to become vice president for engineering and development at Fairchild Industries, Inc.

In 1975, he founded and became the first president of the National Space Institute, a private group designed to increase public understanding and support of space activities.

Von Braun died on June 16, 1977, and was buried in Washington, D.C.

* * *

 _A lot of research went into this one. I hope you all enjoyed it. Huge thanks to Eva for always getting me over the bumps when I get stuck and frustrated. I do love you dearly my friend. I do the writing but she gives me bullet points. We're a well oiled team now._

 _Honestly, I can't begin to put it into words how to thank all of you for reading and reviewing and being a part of our huge Delena family. Your support really spurs me to do better and keep writing more stories. As some of you know, I had every intention of quitting FF a few months ago. You're all truly the best._

 _Chapter title: 'Danger Zone' by Kenny Loggins._

 _"ICEM" and "TTFAF" are still in progress._

 _Please remember to review._

 _Be safe and have a fabulous day. Love you all._


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